


Fate's Second Encounter

by SunsetOrchids



Series: Dear Ubisoft: Brasidas Should Have Been A Romantic Option [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed: Odyssey - Fandom
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Odyssey, Consensual Sex, F/M, Minor Spoilers, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, baesidas, vanilla sex, war bae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16700650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetOrchids/pseuds/SunsetOrchids
Summary: In the midst of her time on Krete Kassandra is tasked with finding the missing wife of Gortyn's leading politician. Any leads she has goes nowhere until she inadvertently stumbles upon a Spartan spy camp during her search--Brasidas welcomes her and offers his help to uncover the truth. Together they investigate a nearby fort and in the aftermath meet up for a second encounter. Tagged explicit for some smut (last section) and a vicious battle to escape (second section).





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I literally only wrote any of this because Ubisoft sucks and didn't make Brasidas a romanceable character (I feel like there should be a petition about this?) so I wanted to expand his character as he deserves.
> 
> I like to think Kassandra could've encountered Brasidas all over the Greek world so that's what this is. My Kassandra spent a good 15+ hours on Krete alone and I found it a lovely place and a good candidate for some romancing. The little islands on the western edge of Messara were my inspiration for her and Brasidas' little getaway.
> 
> Lastly, I do actually enjoy the stabby-stabby action bits of ACO so the sections are labelled if you aren't into those bits. To me, she and Brasidas needed to engage in a real fight together cos I think they'd make great battle partners :3

Dumping her rucksack on the bench next to the Messaran blacksmith Kassandra flipped it open. She immediately dug in, ignoring his stare. It’d been a long time since she’d rid herself of the many things she kept picking up and, per another mercenary on the edge of town, this smith had the best rates in the region.

“You can certainly…fit a lot in there,” he muttered, abandoning his post to study the various trinkets and bits of metal scrap endlessly pulled from her bag. Beaming, Kassandra nodded appreciatively.

“Oh, this? This is nothing. To be honest I just need some extra drachmae.” She paused, staring back. “That isn’t a problem, is it?”

Either he didn’t have the courage to say ‘no’ or he truly was happy to take the various broken necklaces and iron crumbles off her hands. Regardless, she left his stall with a much bigger purse and a satisfied grin on her face. Some folk recognized her as she perused through the rest of Gortyn’s agora, purchasing cheese and nuts for later and then heading for the hills. She didn’t mind the stares. The fact folk knew who she was even on Krete made her proud to be a mercenary.

When she’d first landed she hadn’t been too impressed with the region. It wasn’t as bad as she’d heard however and once she’d destroyed the tyrant that was the Swordfish, deposed the ugly Athenian leader and weakened their hold it was even better. There’d be a battle soon, one the Athenians might not win once Spartan ships sailed in but she wasn’t concerned with that. No, she was ready to set sail for Lakonia to meet with Myrrine once more. Per her mother’s instructions she’d attempted seeking out her father but that hadn’t gone according to plan so she’d do it at a later time.

Much as she wanted to leave however she had some time to kill. Barnabas informed her earlier it’d be a day or two until they could sail, their last meeting with pirates on the water having breached the hull and requiring extensive repairs. Thus, she’d spend the rest of the afternoon hiking up to the Minoan ruins everyone spoke about and exploring, possibly looting, what used to be a palace. There was no such thing as ‘enough’ drachmae in her opinion.

“Excuse me, misthios. Misthios!”

Holding in her cringe Kassandra paused on the path. She’d barely made it twenty meters from Gortyn’s crumbling walls. Twisting around she plastered a pleasant smile on her face and waited until a skittish, skinny little man trotted her way. He wore the garb of a slave and was slowly trailed by another man—Ptolemaios. She couldn’t help frowning a little given she’d hoped to never see him again after he’d asked her to take care of Messara’s previous leader.

Soon as he’d reached her the slave doubled over, hands on his knees while he panted. “Please, misthios. May we have a moment of your time?”

“Of course, friend,” she generously replied, certain there’d be no time to explore Knossos this evening. “What can a mercenary do for you?”

Once he’d caught his breath he straightened, jaw hanging loose before he grinned like a malakas. She kept her eye roll to herself when he squealed.

“Ah! By the gods, it _is_ you, the Eagle-Bearer!”

He must have seen Ikaros in a nearby olive tree, furiously preening. Resting one hand on a hip Kassandra shrugged modestly. She did like when others called her that. “It is true. What can the Eagle-Bearer do for you?”

He quickly stepped back in respect, anxiously checking his head, black curls flying. “Oh no, I could never bother you with my matters. But it is my master—you spoke with him earlier, yes?”

“I did,” the mercenary confirmed, eyeing the politician as he took his time. “ _Chaire_ , Ptolemaios. You have another task? I thought I’d cut your work out for you.”

“You certainly did,” he replied, distractedly tugging the shoulder of his tunic straight. “This is of no importance, really. Let us leave the misthios in peace, Deacon.”

“But master,” the scrawny one balked, “This is the Eagle-bearer. If anyone can find Aoide it would be her.”

Ptolemaios sighed as if this were more trouble than it was worth. “My wife, misthios, was supposed to return home several days ago after visiting her sister in Kydonia. They all think something’s happened but she does this all the time.”

“Disappears, or visits her sister?” asked Kassandra. She already assumed she’d be looking for this Aoide.

“Both,” each of the men replied. Brow furrowing Kassandra glanced behind her and then to Gortyn’s airy streets below. Several Athenians in full gear were headed their way, likely Ptolemaios’ new friends and guards. They likely already knew what she’d done at the nearby fort, too, so she attempted to hurry up the conversation.

“Ah. So…”

“She would have taken the coastal road,” Deacon divulged, hands lacing together at his waist. “She’s never gone this long. Please, misthios—we only wish for her safety.”

“For all we know she’s drunk on the veranda up there right now,” grumbled Ptolemaios. Kassandra glanced between the two, intrigued. Deacon appeared much more concerned than the politician. Jaw tilting one way she focused on Ptolemaios.

“I can travel to Kydonia and ask around,” she offered, gaze then shifting to the servant. “But first I’ll need some information. Who’s this sister and how often do they see one another? What’s your wife look like? And—why has no one gone to check already?”

Neither had an answer for that. Deacon gave he what he knew while Ptolemaios largely stayed quiet or shrugged. Kassandra kept her opinions to herself but finally agreed, stating she’d look for Aoide…for a fee.

“This is ridiculous!” Ptolemaios exclaimed, lip curling. “She’ll be home in a few days, I’m sure of it.”

“But if she doesn’t I’ll be gone,” Kassandra countered, “and I _am_ the Eagle-Bearer. Who knows what other mercenaries will ask?”

That sealed the deal. Ptolemaios grudgingly told her of the residence she should check in Kydonia and Deacon gave her an idea of what Aoide looked like—‘heavenly’, which wasn’t helpful but did give her an idea of the woman’s relationship with their slaves. Armed with necessary information she stated she’d return once she had news or Aoide in tow. She then set off to the north, this time edging around Gortyn and heading for Octopus Bay. With the Swordfish dead she had very few issues with anyone on the road which was ideal given there was a lot of ground to cover between here and Kydonia.

She didn’t realize how far Kydonia was by foot until she’d been walking for hours, was sweating under the hot sun, and still no rooftops or structures were in sight. All that continued to lay ahead was dust and sparse patches of trees and shrubs on the arid hills that’d gone blindingly white. Cacti dotted the rough terrain as well, interesting to look at until she accidentally brushed a calf against one. Back on the Adrestia Bayek had called this region Little Egypt. She’d never been but she could understand why both he and the locals referred to it as such. Phobos would’ve made the trip much quicker. Kassandra had declined bringing the horse, preferring to keep the beast on their ship until further notice.

Finally Kydonia came into sight, it’s dusty white exteriors and oceanside agora a welcome relief from the desert. Hurrying to town Kassandra wound through the town’s spacious roads and knocked on the door of the home Ptolemaios indicated. A woman and her team of slaves answered and yes, they knew Aoide, yes the woman was her sister, but she hadn’t seen Aoide for several weeks. With Kassandra now standing outside her door she quickly grew concerned and started asking questions the mercenary couldn’t answer.

Stumped, Kassandra left once it became clear the woman wouldn’t be able to help and turned back toward the coastal road that ran from Messara’s western shoreline and all the way to Pephka. By now the sun was dropping in the sky and she still knew nothing about Aoide’s whereabouts. It seemed as if Aoide hadn’t visited Kydonia but if that was the case, then where was she? Had she even traveled in this direction?

Perhaps Ptolemaios or Deacon could provide more information. The politician, however, had already drawn her suspicions so she definitely wanted to question him more anyway. Aoide likely had friends: she’d need to reach out to them as well. Perhaps other slaves had seen the woman, too. There were all sorts of leads she’d need to check which was frustrating given how much she didn’t want to be searching for a woman in the first place. She wanted the Adrestia repaired and she wanted to be sailing to Lakonia. Now.

Kassandra didn’t take her focus off the dusty road until Ikaros called out from above, circling a patch of sea-swept cacti to her left about halfway from Kydonia to Rethymno. The eagle circled several times forcing Kassandra to veer from the path and into the scrubland, working her way over to Ikaros’ location. She expected to find a dead animal or, even better, someone’s abandoned loot.

Unfortunately it was neither. Carefully stepping through the cacti she paused and grimaced in dismay at the grisly scene before her.

“Wasn’t expecting to find this,” she murmured to herself, slowly crouching down near a dried smear of blood, wood splinters and wrenched metal. Twisting to peek over her shoulder she glanced about, suspicions coming naturally. A bracelet sat half buried in the dirt beside her and when she rose and followed where the smear led she discovered more debris beyond the cacti. Abandoning the task at hand she wove out of the spiky shrubs and traipsed alongside more dark splatters thrown here and there. They clearly led north toward the sea.

She didn’t want to jump to conclusions but with the way Ptolemaios had dismissed Aoide’s disappearance Kassandra doubted his reassurance that she’d return soon. Now there was a trail of…well, something, skipping away from the road Aoide would have taken if she’d gone to visit her sister. It could be a complete coincidence (this was the land of the Swordfish, after all) or it could be something more. She’d rather ensure is _was_ just a coincidence before moving on.

The trail kept dropping more evidence that made her believe something had occurred: a mangled earring, the shredded chiffon of an elite female’s dress…by the gods, this wasn’t getting any better.

Near a group of tall rocks she spied a rolled up bolt of leather stuck in a crag. She picked it up, unraveling it to find some smudged writing. Malakas…they’d get away with much more if they cleaned up after themselves, though she supposed she ought to be thankful thugs and bandits weren’t any smarter.

“ _Reddish fair hair, lots of bangles, travels with her helots. Make sure she doesn’t reach Kydonia and keep off the road. Your fort will be well funded once she is disposed of_.”

Dropping the orders Kassandra rolled back on one heel, anger rising. She had a feeling she knew who’d pull something like this but Aoide was still missing and there was now a trail of blood accompanied with orders that definitely indicated getting rid of someone. It wasn’t hard to piece together what’d happened. She’d need real proof, however, before she went and did something rash. Rash sounded great, unfortunately.

Barely maintaining her composure she picked up the trail once more, unsurprised to see the tall walls of a fort rising in the distance over the sparse treeline. The stains had stopped and all she found as she crept through underbrush was a small encampment obscured along more smooth rocks eroded by the Aegean’s breeze. She was about to abandon her lead (spies or bandits, she didn’t care, it wasn’t her business) but robust laughter echoed from the camp, followed by others in a similar vein. Kassandra paused, ears perking up. She swore she’d heard that laugh before. Ducking, she pulled at dry branches to get a better look at the camp.

It was a Spartan camp, that much was certain—men clinked about as they cleaned their gear and traded crude jokes. In the middle of it all she honed in on their commander and couldn’t help grinning from ear to ear—Brasidas’ bare, tanned chest was a terribly distracting but welcoming sight. Mission all but forgotten she pushed from her hiding spot and made for the camp.

Almost immediately several soldiers flanked the camp’s perimeter, gleaming spears pointed at her and shouting at her to back off. Eyes rolling Kassandra kept coming, hands raised in a show of friendliness.

“Easy, brothers,” she cautioned, greaves brushing past crinkling grasses. If she’d wanted them dead that would’ve already occurred. “I’m surprised to see you out here.” Feigning ignorance she teasingly added, “Last I checked, this wasn’t Sparta.”

“Eagle-Bearer,” Brasidas proudly announced, stepping from behind his men. He pulled her into a hug by the elbow, clapping her on the back in welcome. Kassandra embraced his touch, careful to remain composed. They were in the company of Sparta’s bravest.

“I thought you were headed home,” she said as he guided her into camp, beckoning she take a seat on a rough blanket near the fire pit. She declined, already sweating from the journey here.

“I was and did,” he replied, stretching and pulling a tunic over his head. Kassandra unabashedly studied his abs—if anyone wanted to say something they’d get a spear to their throat and they knew it. “But that was a while back and orders change. We’re watching the Athenian’s move.”

Nodding, Kassandra didn’t comment. Here they were on an island that fairly governed itself and they were ‘watching movement’? That sounded like a cover. Hands on her hips she eyed their well-stocked tents and weapon racks. They hadn’t been here long from the look of it.

“Well,” she mused, “your work has been cut out for you. Octopus Bay is a bit of a mess but free of the Swordfish. Bulis, the Warrior of Zeus has been deposed, and quite a few Athenian camps are…empty. I’ve checked.”

“We’ve noticed,” he answered, stepping closer to admire her wry smile. “Should’ve known the Eagle-Bearer was afoot.”

Kassandra shrugged modestly. “I didn’t say I was responsible. I’m only reporting what I’ve seen.”

“Of course,” he admonished, pulling her in for another congratulatory hug regardless. Closer to her he added, “Your efforts will be known in Sparta, Kassandra. You still plan on returning?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “I’m due to meet Myrrine there next.”

His eyes widened as he pulled back. “You found her? By the gods, you’re quick.”

“I have many more talents, too,” she teased in a low hiss before jabbing a thumb past the rocks and the fort beyond. “Have you seen a woman near the fort? Fair hair, a lot of jewelry?”

The Spartan’s attention shifted and he looked over to a mulling soldier. “Tekton mentioned a female prisoner several days ago. They brought her in with a crowd of servants.”

Frowning, Kassandra added that tidbit to her bank of available information. Deacon had championed Aoide like a goddess. Did she have a soft spot for peasants?

She kept her voice low. “Well they’re going to give her back. Thank you, Brasidas.”

“You intend on retrieving her?” the commander inquired, following Kassandra to the edge of their small camp. The other soldiers turned their backs, aware this was a private conversation. “Kassandra, that’s a well-supplied fort. They’ll hang you if you walk right in.”

She almost laughed. Glancing over her shoulder she offered a reassuring smile. “The polemarch up the hill threatened as much. Brasidas, that woman is the new leader’s wife. Why are his own men holding her? I really, _really_ want to know.”

Brasidas first furrowed his brow then stepped to her side, head bowed in thought. “Allow me to accompany you. I need inside—one of their captains rode in with battle plans yesterday concerning Kythera and our coast. I want an advantage, Kassandra.”

She bet he did. Strong as Sparta was the Athenians were spreading across the region just as quickly as the plague. Quiet only a moment she turned to face him, eyeing his serious figure up and down. Normally she didn’t allow for company but he’d made a fine addition previously. Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d turn down any request from him in the first place.

“We’ll wait until sundown, then.” Pausing, she scuffed at the dirt. “Follow my lead and we’ll find the woman and your plans. Anything else is a bonus.”

Brasidas struggled to hide his smirk. “Such as?”

“If there’s no fort,” she reasoned with a haughty roll of her shoulders, “then there are no reinforcements for the upcoming battle.”

 


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra and Brasidas infiltrate the Kydonian Fort (TW: violence)

The sun was just dissipating beneath the Aegean when she and the Spartan commander crept through tall grasses surrounding Kydonia’s only fort, edging along it’s outer wall and making up their strategy as they went. Ikaros had scanned the perimeter and would let Kassandra know should anyone spot them. Forced to leave his shield behind Brasidas kept quiet and observed, searching for any doors or nooks that might lead to more important things. He’d come prepared to slit throats if it came down to it, though he assured Kassandra it was easier to avoid bloodshed than she thought. She disagreed but they’d learn quickly whose methods worked better tonight.

The southwestern corner of the fort appeared promising. Kassandra scaled it’s wall first, ignoring the appreciative whistle from below. He was not subtle when he knew he could catch her off guard. Once he’d climbed up they kept low to the walkway, Kassandra parting to the right and Brasidas moving left. They’d recoup here after scouring their respective sides of the fort. Kassandra reminded him a fifth time to use the shadows: he kissed her on the cheek and asked her to avoid a hanging. While he crawled away she admired his thick thighs, incredibly pleased with herself. He was absolutely the best thing she’d found on Krete so far.

Mind returning to the matter at hand she began her hunt. She was systematic in her approach wherever she was in unwanted territory, working forts and camps from the top down and always looking to extinguish fires that could be used as signals. By the time she did spy it Brasidas had just snuffed it out. She smiled to herself as she descended down a ladder to the ground—the Athenians were lucky he was here.

To his credit she did succeed in sneaking past several dozen soldiers mulling about the fort’s interior, each aimlessly waving torches about as they kept watch. They hardly noticed her sneaking from bush to bush in the direction of a guarded door and those that did were knocked out and hidden from sight. A clean kill would’ve been easier but even in enemy territory Brasidas pressed for logic over ease.

From above however she did hear a strangled cry at some point. So much for going unnoticed. Still, his distraction moved several guards from the door she wanted and she took the opportunity, creeping across the dirt once they were gone and quickly picking the lock.

Inside she found a chest containing a significant amount of drachmae and some gold jewelry. Holding one necklace up in the torchlight she found it contained the same crest as a ring she’d seen on Ptolemaios. That was both promising and disheartening.

Pocketing that she then scoured through a small office, rifling through cubbies of endless tablets and documents but finding nothing like what Brasidas wanted. Moving on to a desk she messily sifted through several loose sheaths of papyrus, slowing as she caught mention of Kythera and plucking it from it’s neighbors. She squinted at the small writing, details which pegged the island as Athen’s next bid for control in the region coming to light. It detailed troop movements that were already being mobilized along with a supply route cutting through the Aegean via Adamantas. Kassandra’s cheeks burned as she folded up the document and shoved it into her belt. She’d made many friends in Athens but they weren’t worth her homeland’s demise.

Outside Ikaros cried. She dove deeper, rounding a corner and finding a sharp drop-off with nothing leading into it’s abyss. Upon reaching it she was hit with a foul smell, one she knew well. Steeling herself, Kassandra swooped down and into the dark.

She landed ankle deep in…liquid of some kind, ignoring it’s source for now. Her torch was struck and lit along a nearby wall, grimacing as she found herself in what looked to be a cramped pit for prisoners. Several rotting corpses cuddled together behind her and to her left huddled fresher ones including a female, fair hair still matted to her drooping face.

“By the gods,” Kassandra spat, crouching by what she assumed was once Aoide. “How could they do this to you? To anyone?”

None of the other corpses wore anything indicating they might be soldiers, leading her to believe these were the servants Aoide had traveled with. They were ordinary folk.

There was no sense in dragging all of Aoide out. Kassandra tentatively cut a lock of her hair, wrapping it around the necklace she’d found and hiding that all within her belt. She then clamored back to the surface, suddenly both disgusted and enraged with Messara. She’d _helped_ Ptolemaios. Sure it’d been a job but she didn’t appreciate helping someone who didn’t think twice over murdering his own wife.

Her feet were now disgusting as could be but she pushed out into the fort’s grounds regardless, happy to let the door bang on it’s hinges. It was just as well; she could hear metal clashing from above, Brasidas’ cover apparently blown. Determining where he was she wrenched around and raced for the nearest wall, hauling herself up a ladder and jumping onto the walkway.

Sure enough the Spartan was surrounded by five Athenians, several more already on the walkway in their own blood. Without a second thought she yanked the closest to her, more than happy to then shove him off the wall. In her periphery Brasidas skillfully lunged at another guard, muscles rippling as they sparred. She wanted to watch but was already onto the next soldier, a strategos from the look of it. He screamed when her sword plunged through his belly and she screamed back, temper getting the better of her.

“Hurts, doesn’t it? Must’ve been a lot easier cutting through civilians, eh?”

Withdrawing her sword she kicked him from the wall before moving on. Brasidas had succeeded in culling another and was busy working a shield from a brute. Joining him she warded off the attack of an archer who was way too close for comfort. More Athenians were appearing along the wall, surrounding them like flies. Kassandra’s blood pumped hard, adrenaline mixing with her current fury. She hacked every which way until Brasidas commandeered a shield, then used it to bowl soldiers over as she shouldered through them.

Little by little they made progress, the herd thinning out by the time they’d reached a guard tower. Both were covered in gore but that was of little importance. The main goal was to get out, alive, and hopefully make a dent in the Athenian effort. Pushing past the tower it become clear they’d done just that, perhaps even better than expected with only one soldier left. He still brandished his mace, daring Kassandra to come closer. Giving Brasidas some room to breathe she accepted the challenge, dodging when he swung then doubling back to ram her spear through his ribs. Like the others he was sent to his demise, crashing into a stack of crates below. After that, a silence spread across the fort.

Standing at the edge Kassandra confirmed her kill before glancing Brasidas’ way. He panted just as heavily as her though his eyes were bright and alert, ready for more at a moment’s notice. Dropping the pilfered shield he wiped at his stained face, shoulders rolling to relieve tension.

“I’m not as quiet as I thought,” he commented, gaze flitting up to hers. Relieved he’d survived Kassandra made a face. The Athenians had it coming for all she cared.

“Got your plans,” she informed him in a wheeze, pulling them from her belt. “You were right about Kythera. These should be useful.”

He took them from her with a wry hint of a smile. “And the woman?”

“Dead,” Kassandra growled, pushing past him to the end of the wall. She hopped down, landing on a tall clay pot. “All of them, even her companions. I think I need to pay that malakas a visit—he ordered this.”

The Spartan was right behind her. “Why? That doesn’t make sense.”

She had no idea but she’d cut it out of Ptolemaios if she had to. When she didn’t answer Brasidas caught up, matching her suddenly urgent pace.

“Kassandra, how do you know this?”

“Because I put that bastard up there,” she grumbled under her breath, sorely regretting it now. No wonder Ptolemaios had been so vague. He hadn’t wanted Kassandra looking for Aoide but his slave had been so concerned he had to at least do something. Twisting around her hands flew as she tried to explain. “He offered a _lot_ of drachmae. Now his wife goes missing and he doesn’t even think I should be looking?”

Her companion’s eyes narrowed in understanding. “Ah. Can’t say he doesn’t deserve your wrath. What do you intend to do?”

Wasn’t it obvious? She fancied smashing his face in then castrating him and _then_ looting all his coin. It wouldn’t do anything useful but she’d feel better knowing Aoide had been avenged. First, however, she wanted answers.

“Kassandra.”

Pausing, Kassandra looked up. She was surprised to see Brasidas had stepped closer. He looked ridiculous and exhausted but wonderfully accomplished at the same time. She wished she’d watched him launch into battle.

“I’ll do it quietly,” she promised with the wave of a bloody hand, remembering his objection to public executions. “No one will know—until tomorrow.”

His gaze never left her, eyes drinking in her agitated stance. When he spoke it was as if he’d already had hours to make a calculated decision. “Let the people decide. Tell them the truth. See what happens.”

On instinct she rejected such an idea but stopped mid-sentence, thinking it through. He did have a point. Gortyn’s people would be pissed—all of Messara would. By the gods, they’d probably do the work for her and who would question her? She was the Eagle-Bearer; she’d freed them from the Swordfish and many other troubles in a matter of days.

Licking her lips she looked to the dark ground and placed both hands on her hips. “What an excellent idea, Brasidas. Care to watch?”

He feigned disappointment. “I would love to but I must get this information to the next camp. You should…join me, when you’re finished. Once this is delivered I’ll make camp near the Britomartis. There is much I still want to show you.”

Turning right back around Kassandra ensured he didn’t see the triumphant grin covering her face. Of course she’d join him. “I’ll look for you tomorrow night. Thank you, Brasidas. It’s always an honor joining you in battle.”

There was a snort, one she laughed over as she moved to a trot, already planning on stealing a horse once she was closer to the road. His call followed her on the Aegean’s breeze.

“I look forward to tomorrow, Kassandra.”


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra returns to Gortyn to close the case of Ptolemaios' missing wife.

Dawn was creeping over the hills by the time she rode into Gortyn, it’s streets and tiled roofs covered in a light mist. Very few folk were out yet but Kassandra had a feeling she’d find at least one person she wanted to talk to first. If he was like any other slave she’d ever met, Deacon would already be up and halfway finished with his morning routine.

She headed straight for the largest, most prominent building in town, first nudging her stolen horse away, skirting past it’s front steps and then winding around to the back where several slaves were already busy stoking cooking fires. Sure enough Deacon stood over a woman tossing flatbread back and forth between her palms, both idly chatting. Hopping a feeble fence Kassandra headed right for them. The second he recognized her Deacon abandoned his conversation, worry returning instantly.

“Eagle-Bearer, you’re back,” he commented, reaching out to guide her into an alcove behind the house’s balconies. “Did you—did you find Aoide? Is she hurt? Where is she?”

All night she’d come up with plenty of smart remarks for that question but when he asked it Kassandra found herself hesitating. Deacon was truly hopeful.

Glancing down she pulled both the necklace and lock of hair from her belt, slowly offering it to the slave. “I’m sorry, Deacon. She was dead before I even found her in the Kydonian fort—and her attendants.”

Though he started to refute her words Deacon let out a gasp of despair, hands wringing with worry. “My Aoide. What happened? Why was she—there?”

Doing her best to gloss over the worst details Kassandra told him what she’d found and where it had occurred. With each new piece of information Deacon’s face contorted even graver, clearly distraught. Once she’d finished he sank to the ground on his haunches, hands covering his ashen features.

“Oh, my Aoide! I can’t believe it. Who would do this? She didn’t deserve such punishment!”

Kassandra crouched before him, wishing they were already done with this conversation. “Deacon, I think I know who did it but I need your help. Can you tell me if Aoide was…seeing anyone? Or Ptolemaios? Did they have any disagreements recently?”

The slave caught on much quicker than she expected. Dropping his hands he eyed her. “You think—you think my master had her killed?”

He _had_ commissioned Kassandra to take care of another politician so she definitely believed it was possible, but she wasn’t interested in saying that just yet. She ducked her head, eyes wide and serious. “Was Aoide happy here?”

Deacon shrugged miserably. “I do not know, misthios. She traveled to her sister’s often but hadn’t done so for some time. When she suggested leaving with her ladies I thought—thought that was strange as she takes pride in her independence, but…Ptolemaios, he encouraged it. He never encouraged it, but this time…”

Unable to finish, Deacon sighed heavily. Kassandra did near the same as she gave him a quick squeeze of the shoulder. Reaching a final time into her belt she pulled out the scrap of leather she’d first found along the coastal path. She’d doubled back to pick it up before leaving Kydonia. He watched her through large tears as she unfurled it.

“I believe your master wanted her dead,” she softly explained, holding up the orders. “Do you recognize this writing? Does it look anything like Ptolemaios’?

The slave barely looked at it before issuing an urgent nod. A bittersweet relief flooded through Kassandra, aware of what to do next.

“Deacon, will you come with me to the agora? I want to show Messara this monster—but I’ll need your help first.”


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra arrives at Brasidas' camp to deliver the final verdict and then, finally, enjoy his company (TW:sex)

Messara’s hills had been bathed in twilight by the time she reached Brasidas’ camp just past the temple of Britomartis. This time Kassandra had been clever enough to bring Phobos, the ride from Gortyn to Kydonia and beyond much quicker than previously. He heard the horse snorting with effort and glanced up from his tablets, a smile she’d come to adore now lighting up his face.

“They butcher him alive?” he asked while she hopped from Phobos. The horse clopped away in a bid to find something edible among the shrubs and cacti. Once her gear was straight she turned to face him.

“You were right,” she admitted, sauntering to join him at his tent. “Much as that malakas could use a knife in the back it _was_ satisfying. I had one of his slaves help me piece everything together: Ptolemaios was seeing Aoide’s sister and wanted Aoide dead. Apparently there wasn’t enough room for both of them. We held an audience at the agora and shared exactly what happened. The helots couldn’t keep calm once I told them my suspicions and stormed his home—even his guards were shocked when they learned the truth. Next thing I knew there was an angry mob hauling him up into the hills.”

Dropping beside him on the ground she crossed her legs and offered a sly grin. “All that chaos leaves Messara dangerously vulnerable. I’m impressed, Brasidas. You do know how to organize a successful conquest.”

Plans forgotten, the Spartan leaned back on one palm and looked her over, from disheveled braid to dirt-caked toes. “Our forces should arrive by dawn to battle back the Athenians. I’d be honored to have you in our ranks once it begins.”

Kassandra’s heart fluttered happily. She’d love nothing more. To see a great commander such as Brasidas in action was something she’d dreamed of for years and now that she’d seen it once more she couldn’t keep herself from witnessing it again. She’d never turn down such an offer.

“I suppose I could make some time before we set sail,” she teasingly mused. “The Athenians will be sorry they ever came here.”

He obviously appreciated the sentiment. They were quiet a moment, Kassandra watching the small fire he had going and he lost in his own thoughts. Finally he glanced down to her dirt-streaked thighs, admiring the muscles. “It truly pleases me having you here, Kassandra. In Korinth I couldn’t believe my luck acquiring your aid, but out here? Here, the gods test me with fate.”

“The gods don’t choose where I go,” she answered with a soft grin, brushing grime off her greaves. “Want to know the truth, Brasidas? I’m only here because I thought this was Theras.”

While he snorted in disbelief she continued. “Yes, really. Myrrine wouldn’t tell me more of my father, she said she’d last heard he was there, so that was my destination. That malakas Barnabas didn’t say a thing until we docked here but he did mention something about a…Minotaur? I think I know why he let us keep going.”

The Spartan was still chortling. Knees rising from the dirt he brought his arms about them, hands clasping tightly. “Fate, Kassandra. I’ll believe it even if you don’t.”

“It did work to my advantage,” she happily conceded. “Found another cultist—two, actually—and it does feel good tearing down the Athenians.” Her smile grew warm. “And you do happen to be here, that I can’t deny.”

“You were pleased to see me?” he questioned, head bowing at her admission. “That makes two of us.”

He was not forward, she’d noticed, unless he saw an opportunity. She appreciated that in the Spartan. He was the epitome of his home, ready to fight at a moment’s notice and focused on battles that lay ahead. Such dedication didn’t mean he couldn’t tolerate some fun. While the fire crackled she rose to her feet, both arms stretching over her head before one jabbed to the west.

“It’s been a long day,” she remarked, slowly wandering away, carefully working open the straps of her chest plate. Phobos whinnied on a nearby hill. Gaze slyly returning to Brasidas she added, “The locals spoke of a cove just past the temple. I think I’ll go down there to wash. Care to…join me?”

His relieved grin was a good enough answer. With a groan only a seasoned soldier could have Brasidas pushed from the ground, wandering in the same direction. He caught up easily while she waited, reaching behind her to untie the rest of her leathers. Kassandra gathered her braid and held it up until he’d pulled off her chest plate. Fingers worked their way over her belt, dropping it to the dry grass beside them.

“This isn’t normally how I end my day,” he murmured, words low and warm on her neck. As he gathered her hips in both palms she relaxed in his embrace, his solid body both pleasing and exciting at once when it held her so close. “But I like this. I like you, Kassandra.”

That’d been established several weeks ago in Korinth. She liked hearing it regardless and twisted around to face him. With lowered lids he ducked his head, lips brushing over hers, then again, and again, each kiss warmer and more intense than the last. While his hands slid to her rump she did much the same, delighted to explore his rugged body. His gear needed to go; she preferred bare flesh over even the most polished armor.

Breaking from him she whistled for Phobos. One hand guided him toward the horse, a lustful grin thrown back at him on their quick jaunt. Brasidas never failed to impress her, hurrying her along and helping her up onto Phobos’ back before he joined her, strong thighs squeezing her hips as he settled in behind her. Without a word she prodded the beast across the hillside. Brasidas slung one arm low about her waist, the other toying with her braid, his mouth trailing over the exposed flesh along the other side of her neck. Half delirious with want Kassandra focused much as she could to the trees and shrubs whizzing past but she couldn’t help squirming against him, all too delighted to have his full attention.

Phobos raced up and over the hill, dust kicking up until he skidded to the shore. Moonlight glinted on the Aegean, a pantheon of stars twinkling high above. Brasidas slid off first, dragging Kassandra with. Both giggled like malakas, staggering through windswept grasses to the sand and finally climbing over large rocks nestled along the waterline. Neither could keep their hands to themselves, Brasidas keeping her close, mouth always near hers. He had to touch her in some form or another, on her neck, her shoulder, anywhere that wasn’t dusted in dirt and even then that wasn’t much of a deterrent.

Spinning about in the sand she tried returning the favor but couldn’t while sloughing off her sandals. He didn’t mind, stooping and cupping his palms over her cheeks to keep her steady, grinning at her as if he were drunk. It was a good look on him, one she wanted more of.

Once her sandals were off she guided him closer to the lapping waves. He broke from her, his own sandals kicked aside and then his tunic swiftly worked off over his head. Kassandra didn’t avert her gaze, instantly drinking in the living sculpture before her. Phidias’ works couldn’t even compare. She especially loved the way each muscle glided just beneath his skin, rippling as he tossed his things aside. Her teeth surely glinted brighter the lower her gaze dropped.

In a playful mood she faced the water, shimmying off the rest of her things and displaying her backside to him. He hummed in approval, fingertips ghosting over a hip before she tiptoed away, grin widening as the cool water rushed over her feet. Accompanied by his warm embrace from behind she already felt a new wave of energy flowing through her body. Her hands clasped over his, eyes shutting and taking a moment to relish his closeness. She could get used to this, to him.

Very slowly they waded deeper, saltwater creeping up their thighs and belly, toes squishing over coarse sand and polished pebbles. Brasidas took his time roaming over her skin, lips closer to her ear and spilling devious ideas he’d thought of in spare moments. She liked each and every one, giggling and offering her own suggestions. He rubbed against her, unable to hide his manhood’s intentions.

Before he could do more exploring she continued their game, pushing away and diving into the surging water. The ocean roared about her as she kicked away, cleanly pulling a few meters through the surf and toward a small island rising just offshore. When she surfaced she could hear his chuckling. Treading water on her back she pushed sopping hair from her face. He was already paddling out to join her.

Together they crossed the small distance from the mainland to the shallows of the island. He beat her, water pouring off his body in shimmering rivulets. As she sloshed to land Kassandra watched him deftly shake off. It was impossible to keep her hands to herself as she joined him, slapping his firm ass and flashing a teasing grin when he whipped about, teeth glinting just like hers. He staggered closer, reeling her in until their hips met. Kassandra shivered but didn’t pull away, jaw tilting and reaching up for another kiss that he couldn’t resist. His fingers were in her hair, caressing her goose-flesh skin, manhood pulsing against her belly…his presence was deliciously overwhelming, consuming her thoughts and her body’s needs.

Forehead to hers, Brasidas breathed her in and sighed. His hands slid to her rump and kneaded the back of one thigh as if he were searching for something. Kassandra spread her legs, teeth catching an earlobe at the same time. His shudder encouraged him even closer.

“Come,” she whispered, tongue lapping at his neck. “Just up the hill. You’ll have a view even Apollo might be jealous of.”

“I already have that,” he quietly rumbled, grip tightening. “It’s right in front of me.”

She would’ve laughed under any other circumstances but in the moment she melted and let him prod further, biting her lip to conceal a moan when several digits stroked the warm flesh between her thighs. She tried her best to resist, hips squirming much to his clear delight.

“That doesn’t work with me,” she halfheartedly admonished, only succeeding in egging him on.

“Mm,” he grunted, other hand keeping her pinned to him by the small of her back. “Tell me what does, Kassandra.”

Her name on his tongue sent a thrill up her spine. Despite her words it very much worked and he continued their work, thumb parting her lower lips and circling her most sensitive spot.

“Brasidas,” she gasped, arms reaching to find him, clutching at his wet hair. His teeth grazed over the nape of her neck, other hand rising to cup and knead a breast. The world beyond their little island was completely forgotten while lust took over.

Somehow they made it off the beach and to a soft patch of grass nestled beneath several sprawling cypress trees. Brasidas fell to the earth first, bringing Kassandra with, gaze roving over her as she straddled his hips and pushed dripping hair over her shoulder. His fingers dug first into her thighs then rump as she hunched over, determined to return the dozens of kisses he’d already given. Before long he’d positioned her better, manhood stretching her and sliding in to the hilt. Kassandra collapsed on his chest with a moan, taking a moment to acclimate while his fingertips ran up her back. Words became useless, both their hips beginning a slow roll, each working off one another. Pushing upright once more she used his strong chest for leverage. Her lowered lids kept only him in focus, Brasidas’ beautiful body and enrapt attention making her keen with want.

She so adored everything about him, from his scars to the hardened muscles that dubbed him a capable man in any sense. Even his short beard was attractive and she had to bend over again to stroke his taut jaw as their tongues met. Battle didn’t exist, the cult wasn’t even a nagging thought, and her reasons for being here were gone—nothing mattered so long as she could feverishly match his movement with her own, that deep pleasure hungrily spreading through her loins.

She could feel him growing desperate beneath her, manhood pistoning faster pushing up right against her slick, spasming insides. In a dizzy moment of bliss Kassandra rode him until she broke, insides flooding with a euphoric sensation that rendered her weak. She flopped forward as her heart pounded victoriously, Brasidas’ arms circling over her back, one hand holding her flushed cheek to his shoulder. Everything about him suddenly became intense: she could hear his soft grunts growing louder, could feel his hips crashing harder, the need to have her too strong to ignore.

The heady growl he produced as he came was intoxicating. Kassandra melted in his crushing embrace, mind only half coherent as he pulled out, spilling himself across the back of her thighs and rump. He was breathing so heavily, heart pounding against her ribs. His lips found her shoulder, then her crown before his own fell back onto the grass.

Together they lay in a heap, neither wishing to move or do a damn thing. Beyond them the world slowly returned, the soft sound of crickets chirping in the warm evening breeze and mingling with the constant waves. Eyes shut, Kassandra wished they could stay this way until morning.

“Poseidon sent you this way for a reason,” he finally murmured against her hairline, a sense of peace and calm exuding from both his body and words. Twisting her head Kassandra lazily grinned at him.

“To find a minotaur, maybe,” she mused, enjoying the gentle kiss he placed on one cheek. “But—this _was_ much better than wandering the hills. Mm, Brasidas, where do you sail next? Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

A lovely little chuckle easily worked up his throat. Sighing, Brasidas tangled his fingers in the remnants of her braid.

“Sparta,” he quietly reminded her, words like silk to her ears. “Meet your mother then come find me. The Athenians are at our borders, Kassandra. I’ll be there for some time.”

Unwilling to move until he did Kassandra wound herself closer to his damp, spent body. She’d like nothing more than to meet him in Sparta. Next time she wouldn’t hold back. She enjoyed the Spartan’s company too much to try and until that wasn’t the case she’d bask in their mutual pleasure, without shame.

She nodded in agreement, enjoying the lingering wave of bliss. “Sparta, then. I look forward to it.”

That had to be the correct response. Drawing one knee up Brasidas kept her close and squeezed her tight. “Good. Now—second round?”

Her lips curled into a deviant grin. Stretching her back in a feline manner Kassandra rubbed up against his divine figure. Did he even need to ask?


End file.
